Poetry isn't about the words,
Or the emotions,
Or sounding beautiful,
Or looking smart,
Or knowing big words
Like ephemeral.
It isn't about alliteration
Or similes and metaphors.
Poetry is about what it doesn't say.
The silence between the words,
That's what matters.

Dear society,
       I followed you so blindly.
 You did not treat me kindly.  
Left alone yet taunted.  
I was dead yet haunted.  
You filled me full of pain.
It provides you no gain.  
Then you drew up these bars.
And you let me carve these scars. 
 If it takes a community to raise a child. Well then I would prefer to be wild  
Society, the center of hypocrisy.  
The reflection of vanity.  
The meal for Gluttony.  
The provider of adultery.  
The one we envy.  
The antagonist that makes us angry. 
The couch for us to be lazy.
The seller to the greedy. 
Oh society, you will do us in.
You and the 7 deadly sins.  
                 Hate you,
MnM

Here we go again
Back and forth about the flaws I need to mend
Just because I tend to enjoy the thought of my end
And that I'm always dressed in black when I'm out with my friends
You sit there and wonder what could've happened
to that boy oh so happy
Now a lover of anarchy and a hater of society
How grandmother do you see such beauty in conformity?
Have you taken into consideration this reality?
The idea of order and balance is rapidly
Turning into a travesty
Because of mankind's brutality
and false sense of morality
There's vanity and inhumanity
Against ones own sexuality
And people have the audacity
to critically antagonize those for their God given nationality
While this wonderful country
Goes further intro bankruptcy
So continue to live your keen little fantasy
That we are all living happily and equally
Your views have such opacity
That I can see right through your irrationality
And your thinning mentality
So please continue to criticize me
Please provide some amnesty
Don't listen to me I'm just crazy
Remember? You can't trust me because everything I say is blasphemy
So excuse my insanity
And allow me to gulp down these pills so carefully
Not to take more than I should be
And I'll just vegetate amongst people like a cavity
An outcast to your perfect **society

My house is buried in the deepest recess of the forest
Every year, ivy vines grow longer than the year before.
Undisturbed by the affairs of the world I live at ease,
Woodmen’s singing rarely reaching me through the trees.
While the sun stays in the sky, I mend my torn clothes
And facing the moon, I read holy texts aloud to myself.
Let me drop a word of advice for believers of my faith.
To enjoy life’s immensity, you do not need many things.

I watch people in the world
Throw away their lives lusting after things,
Never able to satisfy their desires,
Falling into deeper despair
And torturing themselves.
Even if they get what they want
How long will they be able to enjoy it?
For one heavenly pleasure
They suffer ten torments of hell,
Binding themselves more firmly to the grindstone.
Such people are like monkeys
Frantically grasping for the moon in the water
And then falling into a whirlpool.
How endlessly those caught up in the floating world suffer.
Despite myself, I fret over them all night
And cannot staunch my flow of tears.

Too lazy to be ambitious,
I let the world take care of itself.
Ten days' worth of rice in my bag;
a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.
Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?
Listening to the night rain on my roof,
I sit comfortably, with both legs stretched out.